former sweetness, yet with a sad tenacity to her former trains of thought, they wandered rapidly over the fashionable dress I hap pened to wear, till tired and exhausted, she closed them with a dis satisfied sigh-"Where have you been, and what have you been doing all this time?" cried she after a short pause" come, tell me all, and try to make me laugh at some merry stories; I don't think I can laugh now, for I see nothing but dismals after dismals; first comes Ellen with her grim face, then Mordaunt with his long lack-a-daisiacal countenance, ten times more solemn than ever they never think I should be amused and forget myself, and all about myself just now."She stopped exhausted with rapidity of utterance as if expecting my compliance with her request-but vain was my endeavour to accede to it. I could not attempt to amuse or to speak lightly of any mixture of "earth's mould" to a being evidently quivering on the brink of immortality. "There now," continued she pettishly, "your face is as grave as any of theirs; do now, be good, and smile as you used to do" at the same time attempting one herself-ah! how different from those smiles I had seen irradiating her countenance, so ghastly, rigid, and unearthly as to make my blood run cold. Too observing not to see the effect of her smile upon me, she continued in a different tone, "I see you think I am dying; now, though I would fain persuade myself it is nothing but weakness, yet I know weakness would ere now have been overcome by time and remedies, and it will too surely be death at last; but do not I linger long?" whispered she rapidly—" so long, that they are all tired of me, Mordaunt and all; did you think Mordaunt would ever tire of me, when he loved me so much formerly? then you know I was gay and handsome, and he was vain of me; yes, vain of me-poor, frivolous fool that I was, he cannot be proud of me now-and now, now do I bitterly feel-if the beginning of life be vanity, the end must be vexation of spirit." Her pale expansive forehead was now saturated with the damp dews of death-handkerchief after handkerchief was applied, yet still the cold moisture poured down her cheek: as with a restless longing for light and air, she desired the curtains of the bed to be put up, and the window shutters to be quite unclosed, and then to be taken from bed to an adjoining sofa. When they were lifting her from bed, her eyes caught a glimpse of two holyhocks growing in front of the cottage, whose majestic heads in the full glow of their flaunting beauty reached her chamber window-"Oh yes," cried she almost bitterly-"I planted these flowers-they bloom though I fade-and they will flourish when I am withered and gone."-The change refreshed her, and as if to encourage the increased cheerfulness, she asked me to read some novel aloud to her; shocked as I was at such a request, under existing circumstances I dared not contradict her fancy, and the Abbot was the first I opened; an allusion to death, however, occurring in the course of a few sentences, she hastily desired me to lay it aside. Some others were tried successively-all could not satisfy the cravings of the poor sufferer, and I was hesitating whether or not to suggest some portion of Scripture, when her husband entered the apartment. Hasty enquiries, careless condolements, and indifferent replies were all the attentions he could now bestow upon his faded wife; he remained a short time, but when he was about to leave the room, she 66 begged he would stay a little longer-"For you know," added she fondly, "Mrs.has seen us so happy together." "Pugh, pugh, nonsense, girl," was all his reply as he hurried away. This indifference even to the mention of former times, which might have awakened, at least, a temporary interest, was too much for the irritable state of poor. Emma's nerves; the immediate effect was a violent attack of suffocation, at every interval of which she cried, or rather screamed out, "Oh! I am dying"-while her eyes glared fearfully round, as if expecting to see some dark embodiment-"Oh! pray for me," supplicated she, clinging round my neck, "pray for me, for I cannot, dare not, pray for myself; in happiness I forgot my God, and it is but right he should now forget me;-I feel, I feel at my heart, that he rejects me for ever-Oh! can you keep me from dying" cried she more wildly-"My legs and feet are quite cold -death will soon grasp my heart, and where will my soul be?-Oh! down-down-down-like the rich man's that I read of at school." "Hope for mercy through Christ," I gently whispered-" He died for the very chief of sinners." "But," responded she, in a low intermitting voice, "did he die for those who only knew they had been the chief of sinners on the bed of death-who had no time left to prove that they knew they were sinners? Oh, no-no-no-there is mercy, but not weakness in the judgment of God, and for me there is no Saviour, for me there is no hope." Her wild plaints at length gradually stilled-her agonized writhings relaxed, and she suffered herself to be laid in bed, when she immediately fell into a profound sleep. The yellow gleam of a November's setting sun was breaking on the pale face of the invalid, as she unclosed her eyes after a few hours of unrefreshing slumber; her glazed eyes no longer seemed to distinguish the objects around; the portentous rattle was in her throat, and the change which always precedes death was on her countenance. She lay quiet for about an hour, her lips being touched occasionally by a little wine; no movement testified the slightest recognition. Then gently murmuring-" Mordaunt, are you there? -Oh! Mordaunt, come to me"-she turned her head aside-and we discovered her spirit had fled for ever. BELISARIUS; BY CHARLES SWAIN, ESQ. AUTHOR OF "BEAUTIES OF THE MIND,"-" METRICAL ESSAYS," &c. A RINGING Sound of war, A breath of woe and fear; The steady march of mailed hosts, The distant banners float In many a gorgeous line; The dazzling gleam of warlike spears The lovely morning hour The blue, majestic day The star illumined night Have hailed them on their way! Colossal trees are rent As by a tempest's wrath; The noblest things are mark'd for death, Hark to the burst of war!- On flash the Vandal swords, Like leopards, to the charge! They faint they yield-they flee!- It's star of fame hath set In a midnight sea of gore!— A SCENE IN ITALY; BY ALEXANDER CAMPBELL, ESQ. AUTHOR OF "THE HISTORY OF LEITH," "Perkin Warbeck," &c. ON the high road leading from Verona to Venice, and at the distance of about twenty miles from the former place, the traveller suddenly finds himself on the brink of a deep and romantic dell or ravine, thickly wooded to the very edge of the road by which it is intersected, and flanked on each side by two huge ramparts of grey precipitous rock, over one of which, and near the centre, tumbles a beautiful, though narrow sheet of water, filling the whole valley with its loud, solitary, but mellifluous sound-the very waterfalls of Italy seeming, at least to an imagination a little excited by the sunny skies and voluptuous scenery of that delightful country, to possess a softer cadence than those of other lands. It will not be, however, without some sensations of rather an unpleasant kind, that the traveller, if he has had his mind previously well stored with the horrors of the "Castle of Otranto," the "Black Forest," the "Italian Banditti," &c. will find himself descending into the gloomy depths of the romantic valley which we have been attempting to describe. In these circumstances, a dread of his personal safety will absorb all other considerations. In vain for him does the little river, which forms the cascade of the valley, pour over the high jutting rocks its unbroken sheet of living waters. In vain for him does the fragrance of myriads of gorgeous flowers and aromatic shrubs float around him. Heedless of, and insensible to all, he leans back in his carriage, musing on certain appropriate passages in the works which we have just named, and occasionally stooping cautiously forward, to peep first out of the left, and then the right hand window of his vehicle-not to catch a glimpse of the scenery through which he is rapidly passing-but to see that his disturbed imaginings are not in the way of being substantiated by the appearance of some ferocious looking brigands and indeed not unfrequently mistaking, in the extreme susceptibility of his faculties, a stunted tree for one of these dreaded beings and not less frequently, in all the confidence of despair, setting down the projecting end of a withered branch for the muzzle of a levelled carbine. But in good truth, had our imaginary traveller or any other been passing through the ravine, of which we have been speaking, at the precise period to which our story refers the latter end of the year 1804 he would find all his worst apprehensions, on the subject of Italian banditti, fully and fearfully realized. At about the distance of a hundred yards from the road alluded to, and where it passed through the deepest and narrowest part of the valley, from ten to fifteen of these lawless ruffians lay concealed one evening in the beginning of October, in the year which we have named. The spot which the brigands occupied was a small open space of about twenty yards in circumference, situated in the midst of the thick underwood which lined the eastern side of the ravine. Here, reclining listlessly on the soft green verdure with which this little arena was spread, they seemed to be awaiting the arrival of some object of plunder, and their arrangements with this view were made with all the caution and cunning of long experience in their perilous trade. At either end of the ravine one of their number was stationed to give intimation of approaching travellers, these outposts taking care to place themselves in such a situation as should enable them to command a pretty extensive view of the road, before it descended into the valley-in the centre of which again, and immediately in front of the bandits' bivouac, a third brigand was placed in the garb of a mendicant-and so perfect was the deception in every particular-in manner and dress-that it was impossible for any merely passing traveller to detect in the whining and apparently mutilated wretch before him, a hale and stalworth brigand. The special duty of this person was to throw himself upon his knees in the middle of the road on the approach of a carriage, and to bawl out for charity for the love of God and the blessed Virgin, thus arresting the progress of the vehicle until his associates, already warned by a whistle from cae or other of the bandits stationed at the end of the ravine, should rush upon the luckless travellers. To return to the main body of the brigands-they lay extended upon the grass-plot, and the scene which the place, thus occupied, exhibited, may not be unworthy of a moment's contemplation. Dressed in a sort of rude uniform, consisting of short jerkins, high conical hats, and half boots, with each a broad black belt around his middle, reclined upwards of a dozen sallow ferocious-looking men, all armed to the teeth; each, besides the carbine deposited near him on the grass, having a large naked knife or dagger, a short sabre, and a pair of pistols stuck into the black belt with which he was begirt. The greater number were stretched on their bellies, listlessly plaiting blades of grass, or cutting out figures in the turf with their knives, and maintaining the while an abrupt, gruff, and desultory conversation with each other. There was one of their number, however, who did not participate in the rest which the others were enjoying, or take any share in the rude badinage in which they were indulging. With his arms folded on his breast, and seemingly wrapt in deep thought, he continued pacing up and down the little arena occupied. by his associates-keeping his eyes constantly bent on the ground, as he passed to and fro, apparently altogether unconscious of the presence of those by whom he was surrounded. He was of less stature, and of a less muscular frame than any one of his companions, but there was an air of hauteur and resolution in his manner and in his every motion-an expression of determination in his compressed lips, and of unrelenting untameable ferocity in his dark scowling eye, which sufficiently showed, that he stood not in need of any superior physical powers to attain a situation of authority and command amongst his compeers. His bold and indomitable spirit was sufficient alone to raise him above his fellows, and this it had done. His dress differed but little either in form or quality from the others. In the description of his arms, however, there was a marked distinction-in these he seemed to have been more than ordinarily curious. His carbine was of the most beautiful material and workmanship, the stock being richly and elegantly inlaid with silver work, a massive plate of the same metal encasing the butt. His pistols, sword and dagger were all in keeping with this splendid weapon, being each ornamented after their different fashions in the most costly and tasteful manner. The pride and pleasure which the brigandchief-for he of whom we speak was no other than the celebrated Fra' Diavolo, the terror of Italy, the leading robber and murderer of his day-took in his arms, was conspicuously evinced by his pausing every now and then, and occupying the intervals which occurred in his reveries in rubbing up, with his sleeve, the ornamented parts of his carbine, or passing it alongst the barrel to clear it from moisture, an operation which, however often it might be repeated, he always concluded by a close and careful scrutiny of the lock. With this description of the banditti and their leader, we shall now proceed to the details which belong to the scene we have opened. Half-past five-” said Diavolo, laying a fierce emphasis on the last word, and setting his teeth firmly together as he pronounced it-after glancing at a su perb gold watch, how obtained the reader may guess, which he had |
